‘It’s impossible not to be awed at the ruggedness as the land rises up. Remote communities perched up high and seeming to defy all logic, as the buildings cling on to the rocky ledges. From a distance they don’t look safe, but when you’re up there, it’s another matter entirely. They were built in times when defence was crucial, I should imagine, but now it’s a photographer’s dream.’

As we continue walking, I point in the direction of the two barns and the forge, then the lake way off in the distance. When I lapse into silence, I can hear Patricia asking Kellie about her dragon tattoo.

‘It’s a Celtic dragon. It symbolises strength and they were supposed to have magical healing powers. The red is the fire and the passion. The wings are in the style of a Celtic knot, which represents the Holy Trinity.’

‘It’s beautiful, Kellie,’ I hear Patricia say, and I find the gentleness in her voice touching.

The dragon covers virtually all of Kellie’s right arm, from the edge of her shoulder down to her wrist, and she wears a series of silver and black bangles on both arms. They extend upwards for several inches. Patricia, by contrast, is a very traditional-looking lady, old-school even, and when I heard her mention Kellie’s tattoo I wondered what she was going to say. It is a piece of art and the fact Patricia could appreciate that is heart-warming.

‘Right, everyone. Let’s head into the shed to grab some gardening gloves and hoes. The first of the herb borders was done yesterday, but there are four more to work on. Feel free to spread out, or stay as a group if you like, whatever you’re comfortable doing.’

I hand out the tools and when we step back outside, I suggest the men follow me so I can just run through the process with them. It turns out they both seem to know their plants and after a little chat I leave them to it.

Walking over to Kellie and Patricia, who, I note, are working less than a metre away from each other, I’m delighted to see that they are content in each other’s company.

‘I have an errand to run, but I’ll be back shortly,’ I explain.

Heading off in search of Taylor, judging by the sounds coming from one of the open barns, he’s in the middle of doing a chainsaw demonstration.

I join the other three people standing around him watching in awe. Taylor slices into a huge offcut of tree trunk, stripping off the bark as if he’s cutting into butter. Within just a couple of minutes, he’s stripped the top two thirds and has carved the outline of what looks like an animal’s head. He releases the handle and silence reigns. We all start clapping as that’s quite a feat.